Birthday Girl
by HopelessRomantic79
Summary: It's Rachel's birthday, and Emmett has a few surprises up his sleeve for her. Happy Birthday to sererah!


**A/N: This is a happy birthday gift to my wonderful RP mate/friend/sometimes beta, sererah. She asked me to write something for her, and this is what came out. I loves her! This is for you babe.**

**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Twilight. I'm far too poor to be associated with that cash cow.**

She loves the water. The first time we had sex, it was in water. We did it in the pool, the bath, the shower, hell, I think we've even done it under the sprinklers. And damn, she looks really good when she's soaking wet. Her brown skin looks like it shimmers, and I love to lick the moisture from her shoulder, her chest, her nipples, and well, of course her pussy.

Rachel is a vision of loveliness, and I love to see her body flush with the pleasure I give it. Her lips part, gasping for air when I kiss her until we both feel dizzy. Her knees go weak until I wrap them around my waist, pressing her into the wall, when I come home from work and she jumps me. Her body reacts beautifully to mine, responding in ways no woman has ever before.

Tonight is her birthday, and I want to surprise her. I want to give back to her, everything she gives to me.

I'm not much of a cook, I never have been. But tonight I was going to try, for her. Rachel loves chicken and mashed pototoes, her comfort food. Her mother used to make it for her, before she died in a car wreck. Her brother Jacob and sister Rebecca had tried to replecate it, to no avail, and I knew I'd be just as bad, but I wanted to try, for her.

Chicken, partially thawed, on the counter in a bowl. I frown at it, unsure if I should cook it and then season it, or season it and then cook it. I look at the pages of the cook book in front of me and try to chop the potatoes into equal cubes so I can mash them easier. This shit would be so much easier if I owned a real cookbook instead of a collection of hand written recipes my mother had slapped together for me when I went off to college.

My stomach growls as I mix the seasonings in the bowl, I am famished. I'm not as big as I used to be, when I was in football in high school and college, pounding protein shakes and steaks the size of my head. I work out, but my muscles aren't nearly as definied as they used to be. But still, Rachel never complains, especially when I hold her pinned against something. "I need one more teaspoon," I mumble to myself.

"What do you need baby?" Rachel asks, her heels clicking on the kitchen floor. She's dressed to kill, but I know it's just for work, and the first thing she wants to do is change into tiny boxer shorts and a tank top. She's got her hands on her hips, a big grin stretched across her face, and she's spectacularly gorgeous.

"You," I grin, and she walks across the room to fold herself into my arms. We kiss, her soft lips brushing against mine.

"What are you making?" she asks when we part.

"Your birthday dinner," I reply, and she smiles up at me, her eyes a little hazy. "Your favorite."

"For me? Oh Emmett! It's been so long since-" She pauses, and looks sad for a moment, probably remembering her mother, but then perks up again. "You're so sweet to do this for me."

"Only surprise number one for you tonight baby," I grin. "I hope you don't mind that we're staying in."

"I'm glad we are," she says huskily, and I feel parts of me stir. "Let me change and I'll be out soon." She leans on her tiptoes to give me a kiss on the cheek, and walks off to the bedroom. I watch, keeping my eyes on her ass as she sways off, making the things in my pants even harder, pardon the pun, to manage. The burning smell coming off of my stove wakes me from my daze, and I quickly flip over the chicken, careful not to splatter oil over myself. It crackles and hisses as it cooks on the other side, and I am relieved to see it's not black on the bottom.

"I'm so glad this day is over," Rachel sighs as she walks back into the kitchen. Like I predicted, she's in blue and white striped shorts that make her legs look a mile long, and a white ribbed tank top. I can see she's not wearing a bra... and that it's slightly chilly in the room. I do an inner fist pump and smile at her.

"The day's not over yet, baby," I promise, and she smiles and hops up on the counter. Even on the high platform, she's still shorter than me. I run my hand up her soft thigh, and she sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Well, the workday is over at least," she giggles, and pulls me in for a kiss. I deepen it, running my tongue along her bottom lip until her lips part and her tongue comes to play with mine. I groan into her mouth when she uses her feet to dig into my ass, pulling me closer. Her tongue unfurls against mine, and I am lost in her. She is sweet, she is warm, she is mine.

"Rachel, the dinner..." I try to say, but she kisses me harder, and I am lost again. As soon as she begins, she stops, and pushes me away with a laugh.

"Finish dinner, we'll eat, and then we'll _really _finish this," she grins, and winks at me. I turn back to the stove, dazed but determined to get this right.

"Tell me about your day," I prompt, and she launches into a brief, but funny, account of her day at work.

"I mean, can you believe he said that?" she giggles.

"That's crazy," I laugh with her, even though I'm sure I understand the whole story. It's something I love about Rachel. She can always make me laugh, forget any problem I might have. With her, it all goes away. "I think dinner's ready babe."

She hops off the counter and leans over the pan on the stove, inhaling deeply. "Mmm, it smells so good!" She leans up to give my cheek a peck, and then grabs a plate.

"No, let me, it's your birthday," I chide, and she nods, slipping over to the bar where we eat our dinner. I've poured her a glass of wine, and she takes a long drink of the red drink.

"This is delicious," she grins, and I feel my dick twitch when she licks her lips to get all the wine. I serve the food, and we eat in relative silence, mainly because I love to hear her moan when something tastes really good to her. "God, Emmett, this was amazing," she sighs when the plate is empty. "Thank you."

"You liked it?" I ask eagerly. I thought it was good, but I know I'm no chef compared to the way her mother cooked.

"It was so good, I may not be able to move!" she laughs, leaning forward to kiss me.

"Well maybe we can open presents," I suggest, and she squeals, jumping out of her chair. I laugh. "I take that as a yes?" and she nods. We walk into the living room, and I pull her onto the couch with me. "I'll be right back," I promise, and run into our bedroom to grab her presents.

Her eyes bulge as I lug a huge object into the living room. The other gift is hidden in my pocket. "What is that?" she exclaims. It's wrapped very poorly in purple and pink swirled gift wrap, with a huge purple bow on top. I'm not the best at gift wrapping, I will admit. Christmas is something like a nightmare for me. Rachel eyes me suspiciously, and I shrug innocently. There is a flurry of ripping paper sounds, and she starts to giggle, bent over in half. "Oh my God, seriously?" she chortles.

A huge, black stuffed toy gorilla sits in the middle of the room, wearing a pink tutu, holding a banana in one hand. "Where did you get this?"

"I won it..." I said, and it was true. It was five years ago, at the state fair, when my best friend Jasper and I had been clowning around. I'd kept it at his place since then, but it seemed like something Rachel would actually appreciate. Turns out, she more than appreciated it. She jumps up and snuggles into the huge stuffed animal. I smile at how innocent she looks.

"I think I'll name her... Gertrude!" she announces, and grins up at me. "Gertrude the Gorilla." It would have seemed to anyone else that she was turning eight, not twenty-eight, the way her eyes shone.

"I'm glad you like her," I chuckle. "Just promise me she won't stay with us in the bedroom."

"Oh no!" she agrees, "not there. Maybe in the guest room."

"That'll be a surprise to my parents," I laugh. They were visiting next weekend. "I have one more gift..." This time, I sit next to her, fishing out the box before placing it in the palm of her hand.

"What? Emmett, you didn't have to!" she cries, and I assume she already realizes it's jewelry.

"But I wanted to," I say simply, and she rattles the box, listening.

"It's a necklace, I think," she surmises, and I'm not sure if she's disappointed it's not a ring or not. But then she smiles, and I can see that she's very excited. There's more ripping of paper, and then the box is being popped open. "Ohhh! Emmett!" she squeals, and then she's pouncing, and I'm being covered with kisses. "I love it, thank you!" she cries.

The white gold necklace chain is simple, but the charm is sparkling and colorful and exactly how I see Rachel. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I grin as I help fasten it around her neck. "Oh Emmett, it's perfect," she sighs, touching the charm. It's a star, set with tiny, glittering stones, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, amethyst. It's unusual, and perfect for her. "I love it," she breathes again. "Thank you." Her lips meet mine, and she's excited and happy and tasting like wine.

I have more plans for her, but she's so persuasive with her lips that I don't want to move. In fact, the only thing I want to do is just stay right here, all night, making love to her. But I have at least one more gift for her, or at least, one act of love I want to perform for her before we fall into bed.

"I'm going to draw you a bath," I finally say when we pull back. Her lips are plump and swollen from mine, and I lean forward to bite her bottom lip again before pulling back. She nods slowly, and smiles. It takes my breath away, as always, and I tell her, "Just give a minute, why don't you get ready in the bedroom?"

I know there's a satin white robe waiting for her there, spread out across the bed, which I knew she'd see when she changed, but I hoped it would still make her smile. I'd had her initials stitched into the breast, and there was a light floral pattern against the silk.

I drew the bath, kneeling over the faucet, and added the bath oils. Peach. Rachel isn't really into classical or jazz or that Enya shit, so I pop on Norah Jones and leave only the vanity lights on. Now all I need is a naked, wet woman, and me inside that tub.

She comes in, wearing the robe, only it's left open so I can see everything. "Fuck," I whisper.

"Well it's not going to be on long," she grins impishly. "So what's the point in tying it?"

I swallow hard and nod, fully agreeing with her. Again, I feel the lower half of my body awaken, twitch, harden, and she walks towards me, her hand reaching to rub me slowly, teasingly. I groan. "The water's going to get cold," I manage, and she shrugs out of her robe. "Fuck baby..."

She giggles. "Get in Emmett, I want a back massage."

My dick twitches some more as I strip down, and I'm already at half mast by the time she's slid into the water. Now all my brain can think is, "Naked woman, wet naked woman..." I step in the warm water behind her, and she settles between my legs, her lower back right up against my now hard cock. She wiggles around, because she loves to tease and torture me, and leans back, twisting to kiss my chest before settling down.

"I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world right now," she sighs. My hand moves under the water, ghosting over her thigh, massaging it instead of her back.

"Why is that baby?" I ask.

"You... you're wonderful," she gasps as I move my fingers closer to her center, just where I know she wants it. Her hips buck up towards my hand, and now I know she really wants it. I slowly brush my fingers against her lower lips, and find that they are wet in ways water can't make them.

"Do you want me baby?" I ask, whispering low in her ear.

"Yes, yes," she moans, and watching her profile, I can see that she's biting her bottom lip, her eyes closed as she enjoys the way I'm touching her. I know her so well now, know exactly what her body needs, and when she wants it. And as I know her, she knows me, which she demonstrates as she turns, sliding against me, so that her hand is now gripped around my cock, jerking me off as I pinch her clit and thrust two fingers inside her.

The water is splashing a little around the rim of the tub, and our hands are moving quickly under the water, and even though I'm not quite there, I'm panting for air.

"I... I want..." Rachel shifts in the water, so she's straddling my thighs, and I know it can't be comfortable for her, but she's still working her hand up and down on my cock as her wet nipples slam against my chest. "Emmett, I want you."

I want her too, badly. I look around desperately, looking for something to fuck against that won't wreck her knees or make me feel confined. This tub really is kinda small...

"Come here baby," I say, and lift her out of the tub, careful not to slip on the floor of the tub. I carry her, both of us still soaking wet, into the bedroom, and lay her down on the bed. I don't care that we're both wet, I want to be inside her, now.

"Take me, please Emmett," she cries, and digs her fingernails into my shoulders, spreading her thighs for me to lay between. I'm so ready for her, and she's ready for me, and I can't wait anymore. I thrust hard inside her, making us both cry out with pleasure. She's always so tight, so wet...

"Harder!" she screams, and tugs on my hair to prove her point. "Faster baby!" She grinning and moaning and panting and screaming, and we're both enjoying this immensely. "Yes! Yes! Give me more!"

I give her more, and I swear, her eyes cross. Her heels dig into my ass, and we're both reaching the end. My fingers reach for her clit, circling and pinching, and she falls over the edge, squeezing tight around me.

"Where..." I pant, "where do you want me to cum?"

"In me baby, please, cum inside me..." and she bites down on my shoulder hard. She knows this makes me cum hard, and I do, swearing and grunting out her name as I give her everything I have.

"Oh shit," she moans. "So good, so good."

I have no words. I am spent, for the moment at least, and I roll onto my side, tucking her into my arms. "Happy birthday baby," I say into her hair.

"You know, I was expecting you tie a bow around your cock and have me unwrap you," she laughs sleepily, her eyes already closing. She's like me, we both fall asleep after sex, for awhile at least, until she demands that we go for a round two, three, four, five...

"Baby, I'm offended!" I pretend to be hurt, but actually, the thought had occurred to me. "Besides, you already know it's yours."

She strokes my cock, giggling, kissing my chest, and I stir again, clearly not needing a nap to recharge this time. "In that case," she says, drawing out her words, pretending she's thinking about it, "I think I want you on your back, fella."

My heart thuds hard as I roll onto my back and she straddles my waist.

"I love you baby," I say as she lowers herself onto my cock again.

"I love you always," she replies, and starts to move. My perfect woman.

**A/N II: Whatcha think? Review please! :-D**


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